Tag Archives: parenting

Two lemons to be exact. Two lemons of little note. Exactly the way the two of them wanted it. For the most part…

“What do I care?” Grem whined in his shrill voice. “It’s better off they never notice us. We aren’t supposed to be noticed, remember?”

“You’re always so dramatic,” complained Acer. “I’m bored and this is getting old. Nobody ever notices us anyways.” And so went the argument they were having once again, an argument they seemingly had almost every single day. If it was up to Grem they would stay out of the spotlight and never have any fun, but Acer wanted more. Acer wanted a life that was more than just hiding. They were always hiding! Hiding as if they were criminals.

The two of them actually being criminals was notthe point, thought Acer.

“How about we just test the waters and see what’s out there?” asked Acer.

“That’s not our life. That’s not who we are,” stated Grem as if this was absolute.

The pace of baseball is completely foreign to me, the amount of rules stresses me out and my childhood memories of the game are less than glamorous.

But it’s not about me, is it?

It’s about my 6-year-old son who practically floats with excitement just being on the same field as all of his friends. The faces are even mostly the same, they are my hockey kids, only with mitts on their hands and caps on their heads. Their smiles just as I remember them from underneath their helmets. It’s becoming (painfully) clear to me that the sport itself is secondary to my little athlete and is more about playing with his friends.

So here I am, a hockey dad, and my son is playing baseball. Can I be a baseball dad too?

I don’t know the answer to that question yet, but you bet I’m going to try. It’s time that I put my own baseball cap on and get serious about this sport that is in my blood. You see, my grandfather used to scout for the Philadelphia Phillies and wrote a local sports column (I got the writing bug from him at least) called, Strictly Local. So, no more sitting idly by on the sidelines, it’s time for this hockey dad to shower his knowledge upon his son from the sidelines and maybe even teach these baseball coaches a thing or two in the process.

“Keep those knees bent, son. Head up and always be ready.”

Okay, that wasn’t so bad. I think it was even correct. Sure those same things apply in hockey, but nobody needs to know that.

As if we were unaware of his approach, his feet pretty much rumble the earth.

The 6-year-old and I panted with exertion and took a break from our soccer game to welcomeback the one we like to call, Freight Train. The game started out fine and with all of us playing together, but it didn’t take long for the feisty 3-year-old to take offense to being reminded about not putting his hands on the ball and quickly retreat inside to complain to mommy.

We were both happy when he returned.

He’ll get it eventually, and until then I’ll continue to remind him of the rules, but nor can I ignore the fact that his life has been defined by scratching and clawing for his own in this world and using his hands achieves exactly that by somewhat leveling the playing field with his bigger, faster brother. An older brother who lived a life uncontested for 3 years, a life completely unfamiliar to our 3-year-old. But on the field, their worlds become one and the rules apply equally.

Our mission of raising great sleepers started with those words from our favorite post-delivery nurse, Michelle.

We had more than a few lengthy conversations with Michelle during our hospital stay, but this one about fostering strong sleeping habits in babies always stuck out. She wasn’t talking specifically about my son or saying do this every time, she meant kids in general and to mix it in so that they aren’t completely foreign to the concept of falling asleep on their own.

So that’s how we did it.

In the beginning and with both of our boys, most of the time they fell asleep on a loved one’s chest, but at least once or twice in the cycle, we would put them down awake. Not screaming and kicking and crying awake, just awake.

It all started a few weeks ago as I followed the happenings of a dad summit that some of my fellow dads were attending. It all started out innocent enough, but at some point the whole thing flipped on its head for me and I started asking myself, “Who exactly are these presenters and why should we be listening to them?” That’s when it all started to go wrong.

I couldn’t get the image out of my head of this one dad standing up on stage, casually dressed and looking sharp in his Gap attire with a hands-free microphone attached to his ear, about to drop some knowledge on his audience. I couldn’t help but think how unqualified I was to be standing in his position. The real problem was though, I couldn’t stop myself from thinking if the guy on stage was qualified either.